


Sphallolalia

by daydreamsonacloudyday



Series: Althea Clayton [5]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-27 02:40:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1711964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daydreamsonacloudyday/pseuds/daydreamsonacloudyday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brynjolf tries to distract Althea by flirting and fails.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sphallolalia

Brynjolf knew that things wouldn’t immediately go back to normal once they returned home. Their nightmares proved their ordeal with the Thalmor was still fresh in their minds, and it was going to take some time for them to feel truly safe again. But, he hadn’t counted on everything  _else_  that was adding to his wife’s stress.

Her inner dragon was…  _overactive_ , to put it mildly. Althea had relied on it too much during their “pleasant” stay at Northwatch Keep, and their eventful trip home didn’t much help either. Two dragons attacked them just outside of Shor’s Stone, and absorbing both dragon souls was too much power for her to handle at once. At the end of the battle, another dragon appeared, Nafaalil-however-it-went, and his subsequent pledge of service to her pushed Althea right over the edge. _That_  plus the fact that the Thalmor were afraid of her because of her predecessor, who had also known a certain dragon, had sent his wife into a nervous frenzy.

She was so convinced that she was going to lose control of herself and her innate lust for power that she was doing all the research she could on Tiber Septim and Talos, Dragonborn, and dragons in order to find some way to control it. If Brynjolf were to be honest with himself, her current state of obsession with her “research” was just a bit frightening. His wife had a tendency to overreact to situations like these, but this was… worse.

That’s why Brynjolf decided she needed a distraction… and what better distraction than himself? It  _had_  been a few days, after all, and for them, that might as well have been a few weeks.  _Two birds, one stone_ , he thought as he sought her out.

When he approached her, Althea was hunched over her desk, her dark eyes rapidly scanning over the pages of the books sprawled out over the wooden surface. At least they weren’t spread out on the floor anymore; it had taken him a while to convince her the ground wasn’t the most comfortable place to read.

"You know, lass," he started, stepping around the desk and leaning back against the bookshelf on the wall, "they say reading in poor light can blind you." She barely acknowledged him, quickly glancing in his general direction before continuing to read. "It would be such a shame if you lost the ability to appreciate  _this_.” He gestured to himself, waiting for her reaction.

"Mhm."

_ That’s it? _  That’s all he got? Ordinarily, he would have gotten an appreciative stare and a smart comment about how he was egocentric and conceited. They’d banter back and forth until he swept her off her feet and that was that. This reaction, or lack thereof, was entirely new.

Brynjolf crossed his arms over his chest and shifted uncomfortably, his brows knitting together. He was going to have to step up his game.

"I know  _I_  would be  _horrified_  if I lost the ability to observe  _you_ , love,” he stated, his eyes sweeping over her petite form. “I rather enjoy the view of your backside when you bend over like that.”

"Me, too," she muttered, flipping the page of the book she was staring at.  _Shor’s balls_ , she hadn’t heard a word he’d said.

He stepped up next to her, lightly trailing his fingers over her exposed skin between the bottom hem of her shirt and waistband of her pants. He slipped his hand under her shirt and over the arch of her back as he bent over beside her, bringing his lips to her ear.

"Seeing you bent over the desk like this is starting to give me ideas," he purred, expecting an instant reaction. When he didn’t get a protest of being taken like some common whore, he sighed, accepting his defeat.

He’d been beaten by a bunch of boring books about a dead man. Wonderful.

Brynjolf shook his head and stood up straight, moving behind his wife. He grabbed her hips and tugged her back towards him, spinning her around to face him. The sudden movement surprised her, and she brought her hands up between them and stared up at him with wide eyes.

"Brynjolf," she breathed, relaxing against him. She rested her hands on his chest, her fingers slightly curling into the fabric of his shirt. "Did you need something?"

Oh, how he wished she said that in a  _teasing_  manner, but his wife was obviously in no state for anything but sleep. There were dark circles under her eyes, which were already bloodshot. Althea yawned, confirming his observation, and he smiled softly at her.

"You need to get some sleep."

"Not yet," she said, starting to pull away from him. "I’m not tired and I have to finish—"

"I wasn’t asking," he replied, tightening his grip on her and preventing her from pulling away. Before she could protest, he scooped her up in his arms, bridal style, and started walking towards the alcove housing the secret exit from the Guild.

"Bryn, put me down right now," she ordered, and he promptly ignored her. He only put her down when they reached the ladder out of the cistern, and she glared up at him with her hands on her hips, clearly annoyed. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared her down until she gave in, letting out an overdramatic huff as she turned to climb the ladder.

Once they were up and out of the Guild, Brynjolf picked her up again, earning him more protests. By the time they arrived at Honeyside, Althea had stopped complaining. He looked down at his wife to find her fast asleep, her arm draped over his shoulder and her head resting in the crook of his neck. He smiled to himself and shook his head at how quick she’d fallen into a peaceful slumber. So much for  _not_  being tired…


End file.
